Up a flight of stairs was loft overlooking the main room. A rustic log railing barred the edge, where you could peer down on the living room below, and a queen-size bed with a grizzly-bear rug complete with head and claws crouched under the eaves.

With a quick glance around the room she falls on the bed, curling into a ball before falling asleep.

The next morning, the smell of bacon drifted up the stairs

She got up reluctantly, fixing her hair before walking down to the kitchen.

Ash wasnt there, and neither was Puck, but Grimalkin looked up from a table laden with food. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, biscuits, fruit, and oatmeal covered every surface of the tabletop, along with whole pitchers of milk and orange juice. Grimalkin, sitting on the corner, blinked at her once, then went back to dunking his paw in a glass of milk and licking it off.

She looks around for a minute before sitting down, not bothering to ask where Ash is.

Grimalkin eyed the glass of milk perched on the corner and tapped it experimentally. "By the way," he continued, "your Winter prince wishes you to meet him in the clearing beyond the stream after you have eaten. He implied that it was important."

She nods. "Alright."

Grimalkin deliberately knocked over the glass of milk and watched it drip to the floor in satisfaction.

She watches the milk as well before looking at Grim, "What's that for?"